


Your World Might Explode

by cascades (heartroots)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartroots/pseuds/cascades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/2038.html?thread=2378742#t2378742">this prompt</a> on the kink meme. In short: "Harvey getting fed up with himself and just pushing Mike down on the bed and sinking down on Mike's dick. And Mike is like WHOA WTF AWESOME and Harvey is like STFU AND FUCK ME."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your World Might Explode

**Author's Note:**

> How is it I can only write decent porn past 3 AM? That doesn't really work with my schedule, brain. I can't count the number of times I was like LOL I'M GONNA DIE I'M GOING TO BED and this fic was like BUT WAIT WRITE ME THOUGH!!!! I am sleep-deprived because of you, fic. But I digress. HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, OP! ♥

The first time Harvey got down on his knees, spread Mike’s thighs, and unzipped his fly with intent, Mike was so surprised he came before Harvey could even get his dick out of his underwear. Mike blushed and tried to apologize, but Harvey, after he wore out the smirks and the good-natured ribbing and the self-congratulations, assured him he thought it was hot, and proceeded to take him over the arm of the couch until he came again, keening and pleading.

“What the – fuck? Fuck. Oh shit Harvey, I can’t believe you’re going to suck my… suck me – fuck, fuck, fuck, _Harvey_ ,” is the mess of words, not one single complete sentence, Mike babbled during that first short-lived blowjob. Harvey laid a hand over Mike’s bulge and licked his lips, wet them deliberately as he rubbed Mike through his boxers, a precursor to the main event – except it turned out Mike didn’t need any more working up; just the sight, or perhaps just the mere thought that Harvey was going to go down on him was enough to make Mike come undone. It’s a very vivid memory of Harvey’s: Mike’s cock twitching under his hand, wetness rapidly spreading beneath his palm; the way Mike’s slim hips jerked and the sounds he made, choked-off and messy, as orgasm caught him completely by surprise.

Harvey gets (a little more than) a little hot under the collar every time he thinks about it.

And every time since, Mike’s looked at him for a split-second with that same wide-eyed wonder. Disbelief that Harvey is willing to do that for him. Harvey supposes he comes off as pretty straight, what with all the cocky jokes about banging Louis’ nonexistent wife and Donna’s not at all subtle insinuations that Harvey’s apartment is some sort of kinky revolving door for exotic women that Harvey ruins for other men and then sends on their way down his private super villain-esque elevator, never to call again. Which isn’t exactly… untrue (he does enjoy comparing his sexual exploits to those of a certain Captain Kirk, James T.), but Harvey sleeps with a lot fewer people than he lets on. People. Not just women. Because Harvey Specter does whatever the fuck he wants, including men.

While Harvey was by no means a virgin to gay sex before Mike, he’s still never… Harvey has always been the one doing the fucking. He never explicitly asked for it, but it was what he was accustomed to, and people assume. Mike assumed. He assumed that Harvey would never give him a blowjob, and now he is under the misguided assumption that Harvey doesn’t want Mike to bend him over, or get him down on all fours, or lift his legs up over his shoulders, or maybe even lie back and let Harvey get on top – whatever position, it doesn’t matter, and _fuck_ him. Harvey can’t imagine Mike would ever, not in his wildest idealistic flights of fancy where Harvey’s his bro and lawyers have _hearts_ , suspect that Harvey wants anything more than what they’ve been doing all along.

As usual, Mike’s giant brain isn’t really worth all that much; he’s going to have to clue the kid in himself.

Mike let an errant desire slip the last time Harvey was sucking him off that turned Harvey’s idle fixation into an unrelenting need. Harvey had him backed up against his kitchen counter giving him the blowjob of his life (because every blowjob from Harvey Specter is the blowjob of your life) before they had to shower and get dressed and go be a senior partner and a junior associate again. Mike’s thighs were taut and trembling, his hand was fisted in Harvey’s unstyled hair so tight it shook, and his words left his lips with a waver that belied their force, because Mike panting, “Fuck Harvey, I wish I could get my dick this deep inside your ass,” as Harvey deep-throated him was nothing if not a fucking forceful figurative punch to the stomach. A dizzy, lightheaded oof of a feeling that left Harvey almost choking on Mike’s come as he tried to get himself under control. Mike didn’t mention it after Harvey had swallowed and sucked him clean; he just slid down next to him, pinned his hips to the hardwood floor, and sucked him off like it was a competition.

\---

  
Harvey isn’t ashamed of what he wants, but he doesn’t know how to ask. He’s new to this whole gay relationship deal. Late one night a week and a half ago when Mike was asleep (face first, probably drooling on Harvey’s pillow) and thoughts of rolling him over and sitting on his dick before he’d quite woken up enough to ask questions kept Harvey from sleep, he almost, almost, picked up his Blackberry and searched for some sort of etiquette guide to gay sex on the internet.

There are certain lengths Harvey will and will not go to for research, and that just – no. No. That is the type of Google search you can never take back, no matter how many times you clear the cache and delete the browsing history.

Why he thought Mike wouldn’t take him up on his offer in a heartbeat is beyond him. He’s out of his depth here, okay? Blowjobs, sure. Any guy can figure out how to give a decent blowjob (though Harvey prides himself on figuring out how to give a damn _good_ blowjob). Anal, significantly more complex. But he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Beyond finding out firsthand what it is that makes Mike beg and moan until the sounds come out raw and half-turned to gasps, Harvey wants to see that revelatory moment of sheer lust in Mike’s eyes again when it dawns on him that Harvey Specter is, again, not as straight as he seems, and that Not Straight Harvey Specter wants Mike to spread him open and pound his ass so hard he’ll never be able to forget what it feels like to have him that deep.

With one major difference: if Mike comes in his pants this time, Harvey will not be pleased.

\---

  
They had pretty amazing sex last night, he and Mike. (The whole time Harvey was thinking about what it’d feel like to have Mike inside him instead, but that’s neither here nor there.) Harvey woke up a half hour ago and still feels sated, limbs loose and relaxed and content to doze for a while. Mike is sleeping on him, like there isn’t enough room for both of them to lie spread-eagled on Harvey’s king-sized bed. Grumbling to no one, he lets it slide. It’s not like Mike’s heavy.

“Mm, hi,” Mike murmurs into Harvey’s sun-warmed skin as he wakes to the sound of Harvey’s text alert going off over and over; he turned his phone off last night and it’s trying to catch up.

Harvey schools his expression into one of pleasant aloofness, like, _oh, hello Michael, nice to see you in my bed but really I could do without it_ , and says, “Just so you know, if you’d started drooling on my chest at any point in the night, you would have been fired.”

“I don’t drool,” Mike scoffs. Patently false, but it’s too early for Harvey to lawyer him. Mike yawns and gets up in a strange crouched position above Harvey; it’s reminiscent of a cat waking up from a long nap on a sunny windowsill. Harvey follows the arch of his bony spine, appreciative of the view. He staggers sleepily to the other side of the bed and flops down on his back so he can stretch without hitting Harvey in the face. It’s still a close call. “What time is it?” he asks, eyes still shut but fully awake now – all the sleepy morning roughness is gone from his voice.

“Time for you to get your ass up and shower, kid,” Harvey says as he taps through the emails he received overnight.

“Not morning sex time? Are you sure? Check your watch again, they’re really close on the dial.”

Harvey refuses to answer that with more than a snort, but he can’t deny that he’s been glancing at Mike’s half-hard cock out of the corner of his eye since he rolled over. And he misled Mike; they have plenty of time. He sighs and sets his phone on the nightstand, and Mike pumps a celebratory fist in the air as Harvey slides between his legs and uses his mouth for what it’s (second) best at.

With Mike’s precome leaking steadily onto his tongue and Mike’s bare toes curling and uncurling against his upper thigh, an idea comes to Harvey. His farfetched solution of waking Mike up and sitting on his dick before he could freak out wasn’t actually all that far off a month ago. He has to catch Mike by surprise to stop him from over-thinking it, but doing it right as he’s woken up is definitely a bad idea. That was Harvey’s frustration talking. He can be more pragmatic about this.

Harvey can take all the complexity out of the equation for him and just be _ready_. As in, Harvey is going to have a long Mikeless evening of figuring out how to translate the angles of his arm and his wrist when he’s fingering Mike to angles that will work on himself. It can’t be that hard. And it’ll be foolproof. How can Mike back out when Harvey’s already slick and prepared for him?

Harvey smiles smugly around Mike’s cock and swallows his come with ease.

\---

  
“What do you want, Harvey?” Mike answers promptly when Harvey calls him much, much later that night. He’s using his work voice. Straightforward, not really polite but respectful, and eager to do whatever he’s asked.

“If you don’t get to my apartment in five minutes, you’re fired.”

“That threat is starting to lose its weight. Last week you told me you’d fire me for leaving my wet towel on your bathroom floor again, but I did it this morning and I’m still employed. I’m starting to wonder what it _will_ take for you to fire me.”

Harvey tries not to groan into the phone. He is not in the mood for banter right now, and if Mike makes him say more than a few short sentences the gravelly tone of his voice will reveal his intentions. “Michael.”

Mike sighs. “Five minutes is impossible. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“You’d better be.” Mike hangs up and Harvey lets the phone slip from his fingers. He thinks he might’ve smeared some lube across the screen, but that’s not important right now. After a few unsuccessful attempts and about half a bottle of the best lubricant money can buy (at the corner drug store), Harvey has figured this fingering thing _out_. Three fingers to the knuckle inside his ass, and nothing’s ever been quite so worth the effort it took to achieve it. He’s so hard he doesn’t care he’s ruined his sheets before Mike has even arrived.

\---

  
“Harvey?” He hears the door to his apartment open and close, Mike’s bag hitting the floor, papers being set out on the table; Mike thinks he’s here to work. “What, I rush all the way over here and you’re not even ready?”

Harvey feels like laughing out loud, but he settles for a less than dignified chuckle. “Oh, I’m ready,” he says, too quietly for Mike to hear, and then louder, “In here.”

“What the fuck Harvey, I thought this was business!” Mike loudly complains as he steps through Harvey’s open bedroom door. His eyes go dark as he takes in Harvey lying naked on the bed. He fights the twitch of a smile with a glower that looks much too severe to be real. Harvey smirks. “I guess that speaks to how unprofessional our relationship truly is. Rushed across the city, took the subway with all the weirdos who hang out on the subway at night,” Mike strips as he talks, exposing more skin with every step towards the bed, “missed a new episode of Mythbusters. And you’re just using me for sex again. Couldn’t we have just had phone sex and saved me the trouble?” He kneels on the end of the bed, naked, and his grin comes back full force when he looks up at Harvey. He’s so easy.

“Don’t act all put upon, rookie, I know you get Harvey Specter withdrawal. Everyone does. Nothing to be ashamed of. And no, phone sex wouldn’t have worked. Because I have a surprise for you that really only works in person.”

“Oh?” Mike crawls up the length of the bed and pauses when he’s hovering over Harvey’s stomach on his hands and knees. “Picture message wouldn’t have done the trick?”

“Not even slightly,” Harvey rumbles as he pulls Mike into a kiss. Mike collapses skin against skin onto Harvey when Harvey draws his lower lip into his mouth and nibbles on it, fingers playing down Mike’s spine like a squirmy piano. The upper hand is always his. He pushes Mike back against the pillows and straddles him, then resumes the kiss like nothing happened. Mike licks into Harvey’s mouth and plies him with approving hums and pleased noises that go straight to Harvey’s groin; usually it takes a little persuading for him to get Harvey’s full attention. Not this time.

“Michael,” Harvey whispers, “Michael, I need you to do something for me.”

Mike looks up at Harvey, eyes slightly unfocused. Harvey traces a line up Mike’s cock to get a feel for how hard it is and Mike says, “Yes. What?”

“Lie back and close your eyes until I tell you to open them. Got it?”

“Are you going to tie me up? Because I’m totally cool with that.”

Harvey barks out a laugh. Mike tied to the headboard with one of his cheap skinny ties, that sounds – or no, maybe Harvey would sacrifice one of his; it’d be worth the hundreds of dollars of wasted luxury for the tantalizing sight of fine silk cutting into Mike’s wrists. “No, but I’ll sure as hell keep that in mind.”

Mike shuts his eyes with a self-satisfied smile. He keeps them shut while Harvey gets on his knees and straddles Mike’s hips, and as he strokes Mike’s cock a few times to get a feel for it, and even as he tears open a condom, but when he starts rolling it onto Mike’s cock, his eyes fly wide open. “What the fuck are you – Harvey! Are you – oh my god. Oh my god. Did you even – lube! Lube, Harvey!”

“One, I told you to keep your eyes closed,” Harvey scolds. “And two, whatever you just said wasn’t even a question. You should work on that.” Harvey shifts so Mike’s cock rests, perfectly curved, between the cheeks of his ass. Mike looks ready to explode, with what emotion Harvey isn’t entirely sure. “But to answer the questions I’m sure you’re _thinking_ : I am getting into position to get fucked by you, and yes, I did use lube. I prepped myself before you got here. Who do you think you’re dealing with? Trust me, I’m ready.” The intermittent stammer in his words makes Harvey cringe internally. Smooth talking is his forte, for fuck’s sake. An emptiness inside him that’s begging for something bigger than fingers and the look in Mike’s eyes as he reaches up to touch his fingertips to Harvey’s well-lubricated entrance should not be enough to knock him so far off his game. He’s so hypersensitive from waiting he imagines he can feel the texture of the fingerprints on the pads of Mike’s fingers as they press, one by one, against his loosened hole. “Mike, just – fuck,” Harvey hisses, sucks in a breath and lets it out shaky through gritted teeth when Mike slips a finger inside him.

“You should’ve let me do it,” Mike breathes, and swallows hard, like he’s trying to swallow his own tongue; Harvey was waiting for the awe in his voice. “I didn’t even know you wanted to… I mean, shit, since when does Harvey Specter bottom?”

“Harvey Specter does whatever the _fuck_ he wants,” Harvey growls, impatient. He wraps a fist around the base of Mike’s cock and Mike’s fingers move hastily out of the way as Harvey lowers himself down, until they’re perfectly lined up. “And technically, I’m still on top.”

“No, seriously Harvey, since when – have you… done this before?”

Harvey wants to roll his eyes at Mike’s concern, but he doesn’t. This probably isn’t the best time for derision. It would be adorable if it weren’t so inconvenient. Harvey’s muscle gives way after a deep, calming breath and a steady push down, and _there_ – the head of Mike’s cock fits itself inside Harvey’s ass. It’s not bigger than his fingers, but it’s more arousing in every damn way. He shifts and takes in another inch before he answers. “No. But if you try to go easy on me, you’re fired.”

Mike lets out a hysterical sort of laugh, and then a long moan when Harvey sinks down onto the rest of Mike’s length in one rushed motion. Mike’s eyes are trained on the flex of muscle in Harvey’s thighs. “Oh my god, Harvey,” Mike says like they’re one and the same, “You’re incredible, you’re fucking _incredible_. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“That was incredibly redundant,” Harvey says through gritted teeth. He closes his eyes and sits very still, breathing steadily as he adjusts. He leans forward so his hands are resting on Mike’s shoulders and stares down at him, sweaty-messy hair flopping onto his forehead. The only word Harvey can think of for the look on Mike’s face is _dumbstruck_. Harvey rocks his hips and Mike bites off a moan, but Harvey lets his escape – he sounds wrecked to his own ears already, and they’ve only just started. Fuck, Harvey is loving this. He’s never felt anything so intense, like he might shudder to pieces if he lets go for even a moment. Harvey realizes Mike’s eyes are closed now that he’s opened his again, and he doesn’t like that.

“Look at me,” Harvey orders. He shifts one palm to rest on Mike’s collarbone and presses down sharply to get his attention.

Mike does as he’s told. Then he smiles lazily up at Harvey, his composure rediscovered. “I’m pretty sure this is the part where you start riding my cock, Harvey.”

Harvey should’ve known this would inspire cheek. “Michael. Shut the fuck up.” He lifts himself up on his thighs and Mike gasps at the unexpected motion, hips bucking automatically to try and get all of his cock back inside Harvey. It’s only the tip still in him now, and Harvey fucks himself onto it with short thrusts that leave them both panting for more. He slides his hand down further, to the center of Mike’s chest, to stagger his support so he can find better leverage without slipping. He adjusts the angle and sinks halfway down, and _shit_ , that’s good. “Fuck,” he stutters on a shaky exhale.

Mike had his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides, but now they settle on Harvey’s hips and dig bruises into his skin. Mike tugs at him, trying to pull him down flat onto his lap again, but Harvey still has resolve enough to resist. Mike doesn’t push it. He clenches his jaw and breathes in through his nose, eyes half-shut and staring at nothing. Harvey’s never heard him this quiet during sex before.

“Trying hard not to come before I do? I know it must be difficult. I’ve gotta be _tight_ , right Mike?” Harvey teases as he clenches around Mike’s cock. He can be cheeky too.

“God, you are.” Mike shudders and his hips jerk, cock twitching inside Harvey in a way that makes Harvey’s breath hitch.

Harvey scoots forward on his knees and leans back, back arched to accommodate his hands planted on either side of his thighs now. He rises up and Mike hits him deep when he drops back down, the kind of deep that Harvey has been dreaming of; a feeling of fullness that makes Harvey groan from the very back of his throat and fist his hands in the sheets, breathing heavy through his mouth. On the second thrust Harvey cries out and his voice cracks, and he can’t even muster up any proper anger at himself for being so demonstrative because fucking shit, Mike’s cock hit the spot Harvey couldn’t find with his fingers and it’s like every nerve-receptor in Harvey’s brain sparks and fizzles and _dies_ , because something that feels that good has to blow all the fuses.

“Harvey, you – fuck, you’ve never looked so fucking hot before, god you’re trying to kill me aren’t you?” Mike moans like he’s dying and arches, hips pressing up snug against Harvey’s ass.

Harvey moans low and his eyes close as he sinks. With minute movements and a few minor angle corrections, he manages to rub the tip of Mike’s cock against his prostate. The pleasure builds so quickly, so overwhelmingly swift in its partial-takeover of Harvey’s faculties that Harvey feels a scream ready to tear up his throat after only a minute or two. So he backs off the direct approach and settles for riding Mike’s cock with long, smooth strokes. Harvey feels Mike’s hand on the high curve of his ass, and then the small of his back, and then it’s sliding up the length of his spine, palm flat and growing slick with sweat, and burying itself roughly in Harvey’s hair as Mike hauls himself up so they’re face-to-face. Harvey loses his balance and his shoulder bumps against Mike’s, their chests half-touching. His lips brush past Mike’s cheek and end up in his hair for a moment before Harvey snaps back, rigid.

“Sorry, I wanted to be closer,” Mike pants near Harvey’s ear, “As you were.”

He wants to be affronted, he really does, but this may be the greatest idea Mike’s had ever. Harvey finds his footing again and picks up where he left off, and now it feels like he’s fucking _Mike_ , and not just his cock. Mike’s bright eyes, dark with intent and all over Harvey, his restless hands on Harvey’s shoulders, his thighs hot on either side of Harvey’s hips, his mouth open along Harvey’s jaw and his neck and the joint of his shoulder, never lingering for more than a few seconds because Harvey threatened to fire him if he left marks. (An empty threat, like all the others.) Mike thrusts up in time with him and pants filthy encouragements, none of which are complete sentences, and Harvey can’t keep his pace anymore. It goes from steady to erratic, restrained to desperate. Harvey holds tight to Mike’s thighs and bumps his cock against Mike’s stomach, because he’s not going to take care of it himself.

“Next time we do this,” Mike whispers in his determined voice, the one he uses when he’s found the route to win a case that no one knew to look for, and wraps his fingers intently around Harvey’s cock, “I’m going to strip you and use what’s left of that bottle on the floor to finger you open for so long you’ll forget how to breathe. Maybe I’ll make you come like that. The great Harvey Specter, undone by my fingers. I’ll make you beg for my cock.”

Harvey wants to disagree to save face, he really does, but he groans and comes all over Mike’s stomach before he gets the chance. Mike comes almost immediately after, with his mouth crushed to Harvey’s in a bruising kiss; he was on the edge for a while. There are spots in front of Harvey’s eyes, a buzzing in his head and a gratifying tremor running throughout his entire body. He rests his forehead on Mike’s shoulder and smiles.

Everything slows and slowly returns to normal: heart rates, breathing, brain function. They manage to lower themselves back onto the bed without disturbing their post-coital glow. Harvey is aware he must a very uncomfortable weight on Mike’s ribs, but he doesn’t bother to move; Mike’s not complaining. Yet. Maybe Harvey’s already crushed his lungs. Harvey pries his eyes open, blinks until his vision refocuses, and peers down at Mike. Mike offers the weakest smile Harvey’s ever seen on his face before flopping his head back in exhaustion. He’s already halfway to sleep. As if he was doing any of the work.

“You rode me like a boss, boss,” Mike says. And then he laughs, like he’s said something _hilarious_.

“I really need to start gagging you from now on.” This is what Harvey gets for fucking a veritable frat boy. Mike laughs again and tilts his head up to press his lips sloppily against Harvey’s. His fingers card sloth-like through Harvey’s hair, fingertips dragging soothingly across his scalp and landing on the sharp vertebra at the very base of his neck. Their mouths aren’t moving anymore, but they haven’t moved away either. They breathe and Mike’s fingers linger, as if trying to leave a visible imprint. It’s quiet and intimate in a way that Harvey only allows in this moment, not before and not after.

The moment ends with Mike mumbling at Harvey to get off him because he would like to be able to breathe again, thank you. Harvey does, not because he particularly cares about Mike’s comfort, but because he feels sticky and oversensitive and _sticky_ , and soon after Mike is asleep with his head pillowed on Harvey’s shoulder, even though there’s a perfectly good goose down pillow right next to him. It’s going to take years to get this kid to understand the value of luxury. Harvey puts his phone on silent and falls asleep easier than he has in over a month, with an arm around Mike’s shoulders and a dull ache in his ass that feels something like victory.


End file.
